Duo's First Pizza
by waterlilylf
Summary: Well, in case the title doesn't give the plot away, this is the first time Duo tastes pizza properly. Duo's POV. Very, very slight yaoi overtones...


Note the first: Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho, as always for editing. Thanks to Hikishi for inventing Mango stories!

Note the second: This is a one-shot. Officially. However, if you're reading 'Apres la Guerre' you can imagine this being set in the ALG universe, in the very early days of the war.

Pairings: Very, very slight suggestions of possible 1+2, 3+4

**Duo's First Pizza: **

Four of us had made it back to the safe house; me, Quatre, Trowa and Heero. Wufei had radioed in to say that Shenlong had taken too much damage and he'd found a place to hole up for the night, rather than risk getting caught.

All I wanted to do was go to bed, but as soon as we were inside the front door, Quatre started going on about getting dinner.

He was obsessed with food, 04. It was like he had this compulsion to eat three meals a day whether he was hungry or not. I would have been just as happy to skip dinner; I'd had a big breakfast and a couple of protein bars since then, but the last time I'd suggested doing that, Heero and Quatre had both acted shocked. With Heero, of course, he was probably afraid that I wouldn't operate effciently if I were feeling peckish, but Quatre had seemed genuinely shocked at the idea of going without a meal.

'There are two restaurants which do a delivery service,' Quatre informed me, looking up from some sort of town directory. 'Would you prefer Thai or pizza, Duo?'

'Pizza would be fine.' I'd never heard of Thai food; all I could think of was thighs and that seemed a bit gross, even for me. At least I knew what pizza was. It was something you could usually find in trash cans, in those square cardboard boxes; dry pieces of crust that sometimes had some sort of red sauce smeared on them.

And at least we were getting the stuff delivered; that meant I wouldn't have to go and sit in a restaurant and try to pretend like I knew what I was doing.

Quatre smiled over at me. I still hadn't figured how out why he was being so friendly to me; it wasn't like I'd have anything he could possibly want. I'd felt comfortable with him to begin with; he was another kid who hadn't spent his whole life learning to blow things up with maximum efficiency, like Trowa and Heero apparently had. Then he'd apparently decided we were friends and started asking me all sorts of questions about my home and family and where I'd gone to school. I could just imagine the look in those pretty blue eyes if I told him exactly how and where I'd grown up, so I'd made a point of avoiding him ever since.

He'd accepted it, pretty much, although I caught him looking at me wistfully a couple of times when he thought I hadn't noticed.

'So that's one Seafood Symphony, one Meatlover's Madness, and one Mediterranean Medley. What would you like, Duo?'

'Um, pizza,' I said again, wondering if he hadn't heard me the first time.

'He wants to know what toppings you want, Maxwell' Heero qualified. Heero. Actually talking. To me. Without being abusive. Or giving me an order. OK, check the radar for flying pigs. Pinch self. No, apparently not a hallucination.

What the hell was he talking about?

'That seafood thingy sounds fine.' Whatever it was.

'You don't even like fish,' Heero snapped. Ah, all back to normal then. Heero was irritated with me; the planet had swung back into orbit. It was my main function apparently, apparently; to annoy Heero Yuy. Practically everything I said or did was wrong somehow.

I mean, I'd rescued the guy and everything and he'd repaid me by nicking bits out of 'Scythe.

It wasn't like I was particularly sensitive or anything; I mean, I'd grown up on the streets and had all sorts of abuse hurled at me. So what were a few more insults here and there anyway? It wasn't like we'd ever be friends, like he'd ever want to spend time with me, so why the hell would I care how he treated me?

The thing that hurt most was that once or twice I'd got this impression that he wasn't quite the coldly efficient killing machine that he made himself out to be.

I have a heck of an imagination, right?'

'Here, look at this,' he thrust something into my hands; some sort of menu. I'd seen similar things screwed up and tossed into the gutter, and sometimes I'd carefully unfolded them and tried to imagine what it would be like actually to pick out anything you wanted to eat. I had no idea what the names meant for the different pizzas and randomly picked one called a Hawaiian, just because the name was familiar; it was a place Howard had talked about sometimes.

We all trailed into the living room while we waited, and Heero flicked on the TV and started to change the channels around until he found some political documentary thing. I watched him surreptitiously, memorising what he'd done, so maybe I could try it myself later. I'd never seen TV before, except through people's windows.

'Isn't there anything else to watch?' Quatre wondered, coming in last of all and sitting beside Trowa on the couch. That was interesting, given that there were a couple of spare chairs. Trowa, who'd been leafing through a magazine, glanced up and showed Quatre whatever it was he was reading.

I made a mental note to borrow it later. Sister Helen had given me books at the Maxwell Home, but since then I hadn't really had anything to read except for training manuals.

'Pick something else, then,' Heero handed over the remote control and Quatre started to switch channels at a bewildering speed, apparently not even noticing that Heero had been nice to him. Damn. He liked Quatre, even asking for his opinion sometimes; he treated Wufei and Trowa as useful allies. I was the stupid one who whom he couldn't trust to perform the simplest mission without his exalted guidance and protection.

Great.

I just didn't fit in, did I? I'd stolen my Gundam; there was no way I would ever be able to fit in with their carefully selected band of pilots.

'There's the door,' Quatre said suddenly, not looking up from the TV. Of course, he didn't make any move to answer it himself; that's what comes of growing up with servants to do every damn thing. It had probably been a culture shock that he now had to clean his own teeth and wipe his ass.

'I'll get it.' Any excuse to get out for a few minutes. I paid the delivery guy with some money Heero had left on the hall table, and found myself with my arms full of boxes, and a bottle of soda we hadn't ordered balanced on top. Apparently, it had been thrown in as part of a special offer.

It was kind of cool that we each got our own box, and it felt almost - friendly, when we spread them out on the floor in front of the TV, with Quatre and Trowa making arrangements to share their meals.

No chance of Heero offering to swap with me, of course.

Opening my box was like opening a carefully-wrapped, delicious-smelling present, but the pizza inside was just plain weird. It was perfectly round and smothered with red sauce and what smelt like melted cheese. There were little pink bits that were maybe meat, and other little things that were a sort of pale yellow.

I guess I'd stared at it for long enough that the others noticed.

'What's the matter, Duo? Did they get your order wrong?' Quatre asked sympathetically, leaning over to look.

'Um, I'm not sure,' I confessed reluctantly.

Heero, who'd been sitting beside me, and had already started on his meal, had to glance into the box as well.

'What's wrong, Maxwell? I thought you ordered Hawaiian.' I guess his pizza had contained some sort of mind-altering substances because he actually sounded vaguely concerned. 'If you don't like it, you can try some of mine. If you want.'

Oh.

Dear God.

Very definitely, he'd had some sort of personality change.

'OK.' We carefully transferred pizza slices to each other's boxes, and then I took my first bite of the Hawaiian one.

No, it wasn't that Heero had changed; it was that I'd somehow manage to die and go straight to Heaven.

'This isn't too bad,' Heero remarked, biting into piece of pizza I'd given him and sounding vaguely surprised that I'd managed to chose something half edible. It was - almost a compliment. Almost made me choke hard enough that Heero leaned over and thumped me on the back, in the process sliding one hand over my braid, and for once not commenting on my hair's all-round uselessness.

Wow.

It was like this little pizza miracle. Not that I believe in miracles, or anything, but sometimes you've got to wonder.


End file.
